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The Ohm Fleet stood in its vigilance over the battlelines of space. With the disbanding of the Bomer Fleet, they are allowed to turn their attention to other matters. Onboard the Magellan-class Goliath, the captain raised an eyebrow at his communications officer. "A Federal Transport Carrier?" he asked. "Aye sir, separate from the usual trade routes. Should I inform the Titan?" The captain of the Goliath groans. He glanced at the digital time display on the bridge. "No, Ohm is in a teleconference with Jamitov. Have one of the deck lieutenants take the shuttle out to inspect the cargo ship." The airlock of the Workhorse hissed as it pressurized. The Federal lieutenant straightened his uniform as he stifled a yawn. They woke him out of bed so he can play customs official to some damn delivery boys out here in the middle of nowhere. The lieutenant had half the mind to request transfer somewhere where he can feel more useful. Finally the door opens and the lieutenant followed the Federal marines out into the interior of the ship. "Who is the captain here?" the lieutenant demanded. "That would be me." The lieutenant turned towards a man oddly dressed with a cape and mantle. Wonderful. They're crazy too. "I need your registration and cargo manifest," the Federal officer ordered. "Certainly, they are right here." John Cassidy handed to him a clipboard thick with papers. The lieutenant read the top sheet. "This is dated a month ago." "The one you are looking for is right under it." The Federal marines are paying more attention towards the crew of the Workhorse than to what the lieutenant is doing. So none of them saw the Federal Officer raise an eyebrow at the large stack of money tucked inside the clipboard. Moments later, the Federal soldiers return to the Goliath and the Workhorse is back going along its merry way. John Cassidy - 4 VP gained |